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telomeke-bbs · 6 months ago

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BAD BUDDY – ON GRAPHICS, GUARDIANS AND GATEKEEPERS

I've written about Pat and Pran's comfort objects before (see these links here and here), and my surface read at that time was that their security blankets reminded them of each other – Nong Nao kept Pran in mind for Pat, while the second, secret P on Pran's hobo bag was a visual metaphor for his hidden crush on Pat, that he'd been nursing like an unseen wound ever since high school.

(top) Bad Buddy Ep.10 [1‌/4] 8.53 – Pat smiling at Nong Nao in the morning light; (bottom) Bad Buddy Ep.2 [1‌/4] 3.26 – Pran and his PP hobo bag, ready to face the world outside

But looking at this again, I think it's equally valid – maybe even more so – that Nong Nao and the PP bag may actually have a second layer of even deeper meaning. For they can also be read as metaphors for each boy himself – with Nong Nao a stand-in for Pat, and the double P on Pran's bag also symbolizing how Khun Parakul lived his life behind a host of defensive walls…

One of the write-ups linked above (Who Are You Really, Nong Nao?) examines how extrovert Pat, growing up under Ming's influence and without Pran in his life, would probably have sought comfort by holding Nong Nao tightly to himself in his darkest moments alone.

But if adolescent Pat had truly been struggling with issues of identity (grappling with the different, belligerent versions of himself that he was forced to assume by Ming, all at odds with his true nature that was more empathetic and loving), the Frankensteinishly stitched-together Nong Nao would actually be a most apt metaphor for his jumbled sense of self.

And knowing Pat's scent kink, a doll-pillow suffused with the smells of his own body from being hugged tightly every night would have been the ultimate comforter, that reminded him of his own elemental truth even as the other versions of Napat Jindapat haunted his night-time dreams.

I now have this as part of my headcanon, that Nong Nao was as much a reminder to Pat of his own truth, as well as a reminder of the other nong that was taken away from him – Pran Parakul Siridechawat.

And then I got to thinking, wouldn't it be great if the PP bag could be playing a similar dual role for Pran as well? But here's the thing – I think it actually does in a way.

My first instinct (and I still hold this to be true) is that the smaller P nestled within the bigger one was very much a metaphor for how Pran (the big P) was nurturing his secret crush for Pat (the smaller P) deep within his heart. And in this way, the bag was a reminder to Pran of his beloved Pat.

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But as a parallel to Nong Nao's role as comfort object for extrovert Pat and his aversion to alone time (see the write-up mentioned above), the bag can also be read as a comfort object for introvert Pran and his aversion to the world outside his sanctuary (see these write-ups linked here and here for more info on private Pran's inner world).

Pran's hobo bag was not just some random prop inserted for the possibility of merchandising after the series. It was very much part of Bad Buddy's original DNA, and was present even in the informal pre-filming promo trailer released in 2020 (see this link here) although the graphic at that time was very different.

But the bag even then had a very homemade feel (soft and unstructured, with an untidily knotted shoulder strap), suggesting that Pran himself may have had a hand in designing and making this piece of psychological armor that he would put on himself to face the world.

Anyway, building on this, it's the final version of the graphic on Pran's PP hobo bag that tells the most about its role as a security blanket in Pran's life.

My headcanon for the bag is that Pran – during his early days as an architecture student immersed in creative activity all the time – must have designed the logo himself.

And Mr. Metaphor, who plastered the walls of his life with signs and symbols (e.g., his smiley/frowny notepaper and doorhanger, his little sketchbook doodles) took the opportunity to silkscreen a talismanic symbol onto his bag to add another layer of protection for his inner life, that he would clutch to his person as a means of boosting his psychological comfort whenever he had to venture into the world outside.

It wasn't the only time Pran had done something like this – I think the supersized smiley guarding the door of his student apartment fulfilled much the same function:

So on one level the double P on Pran's bag represented his feelings for Pat. But on another level, the double P illustrated how Pran was constantly buffering himself from the outside world, erecting ramparts of perfectionism and excellence for exterior display (see the write-up mentioned above), all while keeping his true nature and own sense of self buried within.

And that is another reading of the larger P (public Pran) surrounding and shielding the smaller P within (private Pran).

But Pran's double P graphic actually went further that that – for it also referenced the other, human protectors in Pran's life, and in that way drew from their power to offer additional comfort to him. 👀 (Bear with me on this.)

Prior to Ep.10 (before the watershed khan maak that was Pran's big coming-out), Bad Buddy showed us that Pran was quite content to live his life uncomplainingly under the guardianship of someone higher in status and/or more powerful at dealing with the world. The narrative gave us several examples of these people:

Dissaya was the ultimate gatekeeper and guardian, hovering protectively over Pran at all times.

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Pran's dad was referenced twice in a protector role, with the first being part of his chat ID por.pran in Ep.1 (the Thai word for father – พ่อ – is pronounced like por). Pran had set it up so that his dad stood before him and loomed ever-present even in his private online interactions with others. Noting that in Bad Buddy PatPran's digital devices also symbolized their private lives and hearts (see this write-up linked here), this suggests that matters of Pran's heart would also be subject to his dad's approval. And the second reference to Pran's dad in a protector role also backs this up – when Pran only somewhat half-jokingly told Pat that he would need his dad's permission first in order to woo him (at the beginning of Ep.7, during their morning phone chat).

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At the Archi Faculty, peer mentor Joke took up the role as Pran's guardian – this was evident in how hard he grilled Pat about his feelings for Pran during the Ep.10 khan maak. Joke's name was also invoked in Pran's original computer password Pransocool (see this write up linked here), standing guard over another metaphor for his inner life. (As an aside – Joke was also the father figure for Pran in his university family, so his approval for Pat and Pran's relationship as part of the khan maak engagement ceremony was actually a full-circle moment, calling back to Pran's reminder to Pat about paternal permission at the breakast table phone chat of Ep.7.)

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And during Pran's teen years at boarding school, Wai would have fulfilled that protector role, because his rough aggressiveness toward others while being his best friend would have been shielding for Pran as well – and we saw Wai taking his protective duties very seriously still during the fight scene of Ep.5:

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Knowing how the naming of characters tends to signal deeper meaning in Director Aof's work (see these write-ups linked here, here, here and here) I'd often wondered what significance the names Wai, Dissaya and Joke had. But I could never find anything to explain why or how those names were chosen – until now.

I have come around to thinking that these characters were so named because they can be linked back to the graphic on Pran's bag – if you look a little more closely. 👀

In Thai, Wai's name is spelt ไว. Here he is at Ep.2 [3‌/4] 3.35, moonlighting at the Flagpole Bar with ไว clearly emblazoned on his nametag:

I think the text on his nametag was purposely oversized so that it would be clearly visible onscreen, for us to notice (and also dwell upon 😂).

Anyway, if you spin the PP graphic of Pran's bag around and invert it laterally, the similarity to Wai's name is unmistakeable:

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As for the other protectors in Pran's life (Joke, his dad or por, and Dissaya), just rotating the graphic changes it into the initial letter of each word:

In this light, it's possible that the names Wai, Joke and Dissaya were chosen to fit the graphic and not the other way around. And Pran's dad was then added as another protector because the word por would fit too.

But within the context of Bad Buddy's narrative, what we got was uber-designer and future architect of MBS Tower 4 Pran (see this link here) coming up with a multi-layered metaphor on his bag that both represented him (by alluding to his protective shell, and his feelings for Pat) and also comforted him (with shielding powers drawn from his human guardians, that he invoked literally by name) whenever he ventured outside into the wider world. 👍

If this isn't just my imagination running wild again (and even if it were 😂) isn't it kind of nifty that Pran's PP logo can do this? 🤩 I love the art direction and graphic design in Bad Buddy. 💖

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#bad buddy #pran's pp hobo bag #nong nao #bad buddy graphics #bad buddy art direction

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blowflyfag · 5 months ago

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Inside Wrestling: Volume 25, 2009

Enduring The Sting Of Psychological Warfare: IS SAMOA JOE READY TO CRACK?

Whether he’s in the ring or not, Samoa Joe keeps one eye on the rafters in anticipation of thwarting an attack by Sting. How long can the TNA World champion maintain such vigilance before he snaps?

By Bill Meltzer

Photos By Lee South/TNA Wrestling

TNA WORLD CHAMPION Samoa Joe may not have lost his smile, a la Shawn Michaels, but that’s only because Joe never smiles much, anyway-at least not within the confines of the Impact Zone. He’s always been an intense and often brutal competitor in the ring.

Even when he’s cheered by the fans, Joe enjoys inflicting punishment, and has never been afraid to be on the receiving end of a heavy shot if it means getting in a devastating kick, chop, punch, or slam of his own. Of late, however, there’s been a decided change that has come over the “Samoan Submission Machine,” and it has everything to do with the gold belt around his waist.

For all of his no-nonsense fury in the ring, he’s always been very calculating in his approach to every match-letting up just enough to avoid disqualifications or suspensions. In promos, he usually accomplishes more with his infamous smoldering death stare than others do with a dozen shouted threats. This sense of calm inside of a monster has always made Joe one of the toughest competitors in the sport.

That’s why it’s been shocking to watch how Joe has seemingly come unglued now that he’s accomplished his goal of establishing himself as the man to beat in TNA. Why would the champion mess with success, unless the pressure is getting to him?

[Always one to favor a stiff style in the ring, Samoa Joe has recently turned up the aggression against opponents such as Christian Cage for no apparent reason. Perhaps Sting’s recent sneak-attacks have taken their toll on Joe’s psyche.

Joe’s recent mauling of Booker T was considered beyond the pale, even by his most ardent fans. At some point, proving his invincibility could prevent Joe from successfully defending his World title.]

Mick Foley, himself a former world champion who is no stranger to brutal brawls, thinks he knows the answer.

“It’s a whole different ballgame going from hunter to the hunted,” Foley says. “Suddenly, everyone is gunning for you. You’re not sure who to trust. If you get attacked and someone rushes in to help you, is that guy doing it because he wants to be the one to take you out? I haven't talked to Samoa Joe about it, but I'm almost certain he’s going through some of that.”

[While recent signs might suggest Joe is headed for a breakdown, Sting’s attacks have not affected Joe’s wrestling ability. TO fend off the competition, Joe will need to be at his technical best, as he was when he defeated Kurt Angle at Lockdown for the TNA World title.

Confronting Sting one-on-one in the ring would go a long way in settling Samoa Joe’s nerves. But as long as “The Stinger” evades Joe’s grasp, the champion will remain on edge.

Motivated by a title defense, revenge, and Sting’s antics, Joe used every weapon at his disposal to unleash his frustration on Booker T in their “Six Sides Of Steel” match at Hard Justice. This time, though, Joe’s brutality was legal and necessary.]

Foley may be onto something. TNA’s crop of challengers is the deepest it has been in federation history. It includes a host of former TNA, NWA, WCW, and WWE champions with varying reputations for treachery and violence.

But, it’s not just the fact that Joe is champion that seems to be bringing him out of his usually collected self. In the recent months, Joe has been brought down in various matches by the dark and brooding Sting. Now that Sting is back in the picture, his mental warfare seems to be working.

The strain is showing, as Joe has slowly begun to lose control of his emotions. In the ring, his style is showing an increasing amount of recklessness-even desperation. In his promos, the veins on his neck bulge as he rants at his enemies.

“Despite his unusual agility for such a big guy, Joe’s always been more Stan Hansen than Big Van Vader in his approach,” says Foley. “Hansen could intimidate the hell out of you because he was so methodical and relentless. Vader was a guy who could get reckless and throw any sort of game plan out the window.

“But Joe seems to be leaning more toward the Vader side of wrestling. These mind games Sting has been playing with him seem to be working on him pretty well. It’s hard enough being champion without someone always turning the lights out and beating you with a baseball bat.”

TNA Management Director Jim Cornette also sees a similarity between Joe’s current in-ring behavior and Vader’s lunacy during his three tenures atop WCW. He even says the strain of being champion could be affecting Joe away from the ring.

“The other day, I asked Joe, ‘What time is it?’ He slapped his chest beet red and screamed, “It’s Samoa time!’

“Joe is normally a real laid-back, funny guy when he’s away from the ring. He’s not usually uptight at all. Lately, he’s been very serious and subdued away from the ring. I told him to relax and have fun being champion. He’s worked hard to get where he’s at.”

[As TNA commentator Jeremy Borash knows, Joe can be as intense an interview as he is a wrestler. Borash and other TNA personnel have noticed the increased tension in Samoa Joe’s demeanor recently.]

For his part, Joe doesn’t seem to understand why there’s so much consternation about him taking an even more aggressive approach in the ring. He also denies that the pressure is getting to him. Instead, he points the finger at the tactics of his opposition.

“I call it being proactive,” Joe says. “I understand that there’s a target on my back now, but I'm not the least bit worried about it. I’m sending a message to make it clear to everyone in TNA that the World championship is my property. I don’t take kindly to people trying to beat me up and take my property. Call me crazy.”

Despite his protests to the contrary, as the number of challengers has mounted and unlikely alliances have formed to take Joe out, the champion’s actions have seemed increasingly reactive. Joe appears to be looking over his shoulder constantly, waiting for someone to jump him from behind.

[Properly channeled aggression has allowed Joe to rise above other dangerous men in TNA like Scott Steiner. But the uncontrolled rage he’s exhibiting now could destroy his title reign and his career. Joe must find a way to keep his emotions in check.]

This shows just how Sting’s initial attacks have opened up the eyes to the rest of TNA’s roster. They now see that the champ can be flustered, even bothered, by guerilla attacks.

Even when there is no sneak attack, the thought infuriates him and leads him to become violent to the point of being out of control. When there is an attack, Joe practically froths at the mouth trying to fight off his assailants. He spends a lot of time thinking about revenge against the likes of Booker T and Sting.

No one can say Samoa Joe isn’t a fighting champion. But at the rate he’s going at, he’s in danger of becoming an ex-champion sooner than he should.

#samoa joe #joe…. <3 #magazine scan #magazine transcript #tna #total nonstop action #Inside Wrestling #Inside Wrestling 2000s #2000s #2009

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snowbellewells · 8 months ago

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Self Promo Sunday: "Carolina Moon"

First off, let me say that I know it has been ages, and I am really sorry for that. I sort of lost my muse and my energy - as well as my time to write - there for a bit. I am grateful if you have stuck with me and are ready to see where else this story goes. Finally, FINALLY, I have a new chapter almost edited and proofed and ready to go in the next couple of days, so I thought this week's self-promo might serve as a recap for the story so far to refresh everyone's memory (mine included!) The new chapter should be up in just a day or two, and if all goes well, another by Friday, to then return to my weekly (or closer to it) posting schedule.

In the meantime, I do hope you enjoy this little look back, and I'd love to hear what you think.

Thank you SO MUCH to @eastwesthomeisbest for the gorgeous cover art, and to @xarandomdreamx for being my beta. I am very grateful to you both.

Can be read from the beginning HERE on Tumblr or HERE on AO3

Summary: Emma Swan has returned to the town she grew up in, and the past that has haunted her no matter where she has run. She seeks answers and peace at last. Despite the years that have passed, some things haven't changed very much in Storybrooke, South Carolina, and one of those things is Killian Jones. He never forgot the gangly girl with the world on her shoulders and pain in her eyes, but will he finally be able to slip past her defenses and help her find the answers she seeks?

Chapter Three: Fresh Starts and Stumbling Blocks

The following morning, Emma rose early to the sun on her face, streaming in warm and bright through the windows where she hadn’t yet hung curtains. A noisy mockingbird called brashly to his mate in the trees outside as she sat up, rubbing her eyes and pushing back the rumpled covers, resolving to go ahead and get an early start on the day. Though her body might still be weary, her mind already seemed fully aware and was running through all that needed doing before Saturday’s anticipated grand opening.

Standing and stretching out the cricks and aches, Emma sighed, shaking her head while she straightened the bed clothes as best she could over her mattress on the floor. It had arrived on time, with the other household items she’d sent with the movers from her apartment in Boston. But the antique brass bedframe she had ordered had yet to arrive. Still, she’d slept in the end, and she had spent so many nights in much worse discomfort, she could make do for the time being with an accepting shrug.

Trailing into the kitchen while yawning, Emma pulled an old terrycloth bathrobe over her oversize tee and shorts, threadbare and comfortably soft with years of washings, as she went. She reached up into the cabinet for her coffee, opened it and took a grateful whiff, before she grabbed a measuring spoon from the drainer to fill the coffeemaker. It was only as the life-giving brew began to percolate that she was startled by the sound of three crisp knocks on her front door, making her jump and jerk her robe more tightly closed as she spun to face it.

Not sure who would be calling on her so early in the morning - and when she had barely been back in town three days - Emma almost didn’t answer the summons at all. Still, she couldn’t help both her curiosity and the concern that someone could genuinely need her. She crossed the worn wooden floor of the simple kitchen and unlocked the door, pulling it open only to catch her breath in surprise at who stood on her porch. Emma couldn’t help stumbling back a step and unconsciously running a hand through her still sleep-rumpled hair, for what little good it did.

What was Cora Jones doing there?!? She cursed herself fruitlessly for wearing her most comfortable, but rattiest, pajamas and robe, and she floundered for something to say. Cora, meanwhile, seemed to only stand taller, an eyebrow arched as she looked down her nose at Emma much like she would something rotten which had been smashed on the bottom of her designer shoes. “Might I come in, Ms. Swan?” the older woman finally deigned to speak in frosty tones. “Unlike some people, I have numerous things to do this morning, and cannot afford to lounge around until noon.”

Emma caught a defensive retort on her tongue, biting it back with painful effort. If it were anyone else, she would have given them a piece of her mind, but this was Rose’s mother. Some small part of her, a skinny, lonely pre-teen who had never known a mother other than the proper Jones matriarch, still ached to prove herself to this woman. Oh, she knew it was impossible. It always had been, even before the awful day that forever altered her world. But deep within, that needy child wanted to please her best friend’s parent, to feel some semblance of a parent’s love for herself, and it would not be completely buried. So she held back speaking at all and simply opened the screen door still separating them, motioning Cora through.

Moving toward the kitchen table, Emma offered coffee and a seat, grateful that though the small piece of furniture was chipped and rickety, it was at least cleared and clean. Looking as if she would rather do almost anything else instead, Cora declined abruptly. “I’ll stand, thank you.”

Emma shrugged wordlessly, trying not to let the clear derision make her shrink. She was right where she was meant to be, intending to lay old demons to rest once and for all. She’d like to make peace with Mrs. Jones as well, but she also knew it wasn’t meant to be, and was not about to be run off. Not now, not after she had waited so long. Instead, she reached up into her cabinet again for a mug for herself, poured coffee into it with as steady a hand as she could manage, and forced herself to wait. Let Cora broach the topic Emma knew she’d come to discuss; she didn’t need to make the woman’s job any easier.

Much as though she had read Emma’s thoughts, the Jones matriarch’s eyes narrowed, and she raised her chin haughtily when she spoke, her voice a whip crack in the taut air of the quiet kitchen. “Let’s not pretend this is a social call. I’m sure you know quite well what I have in mind. It is merely a matter of how difficult you wish to make things.”

Emma merely hummed low in her throat, the slightest nod allowing that she had heard and understood Cora’s words, but still not answering aloud. Inside, she ranted, ‘Me?!? You’re the one making things harder than they have to be!’ But she didn’t give Mrs. Jones the satisfaction of needlessly protesting or taking the bait. She simply met the older woman’s stare head-on and held her tongue, biding her time.

“I do not want you here. Not on our family’s property, not in this town, nowhere near us. I trust you understand that much? Neither my children, nor I, want you around, unearthing painful memories again after all these years. I realize you have already leased space in town for your little shop, ordered merchandise and so forth…. So, Ms. Swan, what will it take?” As calmly as if she were discussing the weather or ordering a latte, Cora Jones withdrew a fine leather checkbook from her designer purse, poised with pen in hand. “Tell me what you need to pack up again and clear out of here, to start over elsewhere, and I’ll make out a check here and now.”

Unbidden temper flared in Emma’s gut suddenly, no matter how she tried to remain unaffected. No matter how far she had come or what she had made of herself, to people like this woman she would never be anything but poor white trash - a mess to be cleared away out of sight. Her presence made them uncomfortable or guilty or angry - she’d never quite decided which. And she was tired of it. She might not have come from anything, and she might not possess some fancy pedigree stretching back generations, but Emma was not nothing; she never had been. Pure, unbreakable steel seemed to fuse her backbone, bringing her voice and fighting spirit to the fore. She wasn’t for sale - not at any price - and it was time that “Her Highness” learned that fact.

“You must be mistaken, Mrs. Jones,” Emma replied, slow and plain, each syllable as intentional and measured as any of her adversary’s had been. “You seem to think I would consider relocating. Let me be clear: I’m not on the market. You can’t buy me out. You can’t run me off. Not this time. I’m staying.”

If she’d been at all in the mood to laugh, Cora’s perfectly painted mouth gaping open, then snapping shut in stunned disbelief would have been comical. As it was, Emma just kept staring her down, holding firm until the oldest money in Storybrooke had nothing left to do but withdraw. “This isn’t finished, Ms. Swan,” she hissed, her stare sparking dangerously like a match against flint. “You would be better off to take my money and make your way more easily elsewhere.”

Emma followed her to the door, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she watched those classy heels cross the warped board threshold. Anger had restored her nerve and then some as she clipped out, “Well, nothing’s ever been easy in my life. Why should it start now?” Facing off stonily with the woman she had finally, once and for all, given up trying to impress, Emma was determined that this time she would not be the one to crack.

Then, just as Cora stepped off the porch, Emma couldn’t help adding, “And, in case you haven’t noticed, both of your children are grown now. Maybe you should find out what they actually think before trying to speak for them.”

The older woman whirled, but Emma had slammed her door closed, ensuring the final word on the matter. She deflated quickly, falling back against the solid barrier bonelessly and trying to catch her breath, but it felt good to stand up to the woman at long last rather than taking any more judgment she didn’t deserve. She was sure Cora Jones wasn’t finished yet, but she had made up her mind. She was through running.

*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*

Despite the upsetting and inauspicious start to her day, by the time early afternoon rolled around, Emma found herself pleasantly puttering about it her shop, humming to herself as she hung pictures in just the right place for best appreciation and then stepping back to take in the overall effect. Things were coming together nicely, and somewhere beneath the anxious concern she wouldn’t be ready in time and the only half-buried dread that no one would come to the opening because it was hers, Emma was beginning to feel proud excitement. She had found a real outlet upon discovering photography in college and had kept it up ever since, developing and honing her knowledge and skill in the art. In the quiet of the dark room and the simple, calm repetition of the developing process, Emma often found the whirling thoughts and visions that screamed inside her head went silent, a rare moment of peace as she worked alone to bring to light the images she had captured. Just as she had told Killian the previous evening, it was the one time she actually found a benefit in her ability to see more beyond the obvious existence on the surface. That she could bring out some aspect or nuance of her subject because of the burden she’d borne all her life was not really any sort of relief, but it felt like some tiny bit of restitution to make up for her trials as she looked around the gallery she was slowly forming, full of moments worth remembering, caught for as long as the pictures might last. She was gradually daring to hope that others as well would wish to glimpse the images she’d brought to life, ones which otherwise might have remained unseen.

She was turning to the back where she kept a small refrigerator to get a pop and take a breather when the bell over her door announced the arrival of a newcomer at her store front. Emma paused at the end of the long counter, turning to look over her shoulder curiously and prepared to greet the guest, but explain that she wasn’t open to customers quite yet. However, something about the young woman she saw standing just inside the door anxiously shuffling her feet and offering Emma a nervous but hopeful smile told her this one wasn’t there to buy framed photographs or picture-taking equipment, but had something else entirely on her mind.

Rephrasing the speech she’d had ready to deliver, Emma instead offered an encouraging smile of her own and inquired curiously, “Hello, I’m Emma Swan, the owner. How can I help you?”

Upon closer inspection, Emma could see the visitor was quite young, and clearly rather shy as well. She couldn’t be long out of high school, or college at the latest, and she blushed with another quick smile before looking down at her hands, then back up at her to answer. “Hi, I’m Violet Clemens. Fresh out of college actually,” she added with a self-conscious little giggle, “and new in town. I’ll start teaching art at the middle school here in a week or so, but I was wondering if you might need any part-time help here in the meantime. What with moving and student loans and all, I could do with a little extra income.”

Understanding dawned on Emma as the girl continued, and she seemed so genuinely sweet that it was impossible not to grin right back at Violet in welcome as she came forward to shake hands. It would really come in handy to have someone who could focus on manning the register and wrapping up purchases for customers while she focused on book work, restocking, and troubleshooting. Unfortunately, Emma had sunk nearly all she possessed in the move, leasing the space, and procuring the merchandise she hadn’t created herself; it might not be possible to hire on any help until she saw if she could start making back some of her investment.

She told Violet as much gently, making clear that she truly did regret having to be so cautious, but the younger woman easily understood. Nodding sagely, Violet took the disappointment in stride. Glancing out the large front window to the sidewalk, she shrugged good naturedly and gestured toward the large, rather scruffy, dog Emma just then noticed, tied by the leash to the bike rack and lounging on the cement with its tongue lolling contentedly. “It’s alright. Honestly,” she piped up, cheer still evident in her voice. “I knew it was a longshot, dropping in unannounced and all. But Norman and I,” here she beamed at the dog who seemed to sense her affection through the glass as his tail began slapping the sidewalk and his ears perked up, “were taking an afternoon walk, and I couldn’t help but notice your lovely store front - it’s really coming together, you know that, right? And I had to try. I’d love to work somewhere like this.”

As an afterthought, Emma quickly asked before Violet could leave, “I wish I could say for sure I could hire you. You seem like a wonderful fit, and I could use the help. I just need to see how things progress on the business side. Might you have a resume or a card you could leave? Then, if I’m able to hire later, I can call and find out if you’re still interested.”

Violet’s head was already nodding enthusiastically, even before Emma could finish speaking. “Yes, I do! Right here,” she chirped triumphantly, pulling it out of the shoulder bag she carried and then flushing slightly as she smoothed the proffered resume against her leg before handing it over. “I’m glad you’re willing to take a look at it. This will be such an intriguing gallery, and I need something that can fit around my hours at the school once classes are in session. Between you and me, it took nearly every cent I had to get me and Norman here, and it was worth a try to make a little money until my paychecks start coming regularly. But I apologize if it’s a bit rumpled - my partner out there can be a bit of a handful.”

Emma waved off the concern, not in the least bothered about slightly bent paper, and wishing even more that she had a definite opening. She remembered all too well just the spot this young woman was in - and she wasn’t that far removed from her situation even now. Instead, she grinned as they both looked out toward the irresistibly floppy-eared dog who absolutely knew he was being watched and leapt to his feet, tail wagging in excitement.

“He looks like a sweetie though, all the same,” Emma smiled indulgently, feeling a pang in her heart at the memory of all the times she had wished as a kid that she could have a pet of her own, particularly a dog that would have been by her side when she was alone and in need of someone to understand her and lend her comfort.

Violet nodded readily in confirmation, grinning at her dog as if he was hearing and comprehending every word. “Yeah, he really is,” she agreed, turning back to Emma once more. “Sad as it might sound, he’s probably my best friend.”

“It doesn’t sound sad at all to me,” Emma assured, thinking to herself that choosing to depend on such an inherently loyal and devoted creature made perfect sense - especially if one were alone in the world otherwise. Giving Violet Clemens one more hopeful promise that she would call if she was able, Emma began walking with her back to the door, before adding as the girl turned the doorknob and moved to step out. “Thanks again for your interest. If things go well, maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

She stepped outside into the mild sunshine, turning her face upwards for a moment to drink in its gentle warmth. Then, with a curious nod toward Norman, who was wriggling and writhing with enthusiasm at both his mistress’ return and the proximity of a new friend, Emma hesitated only until the expected indication that it would be just fine before squatting to the dog’s eye level to scratch him behind the soft, velvety ears and accept a sloppy lick across her cheek.

“Norman!” Violet chided, even while giggling at the same time. “Really! You’ve no manners at all, bud. Sorry about that, Ms. Swan.”

Emma chuckled too, not at all put off, and the simple affection that flooded her at the dog’s sweet, uncomplicated reception made her want to wrap her arms around his neck and bury her fingers in his thick ruff of gray fur. “Don’t worry about it,” she assured, stroking the dog’s back and chest several more times before standing again at the protest of her knees and calves. “I pretty much asked for it,” she added good naturedly. “He’s a handsome dog, but unusual looking. What breed is he?”

Violet shrugged unconcernedly, stroking along the top of his head as Norman came to lean against her side, his head nearly even with her hip, and gazed at her with the sort of obvious and complete devotion that only a good dog could muster. “The people I adopted him from had an Irish Wolfhound that guarded their sheep, but they didn’t really know about the father - it wasn’t an intentional litter of puppies.” She gave a playful little “oops” sort of grimace to Emma before gently rubbing under Norman’s furrily bearded chin for a moment, crooning, “You were a bit of a surprise there, weren’t you, Normie?” to the dog. “Anyway, best the vet back home could figure, he’s some sort of wolfhound-shepherd mix. And he may be huge, but I’m pretty glad of it. He’s all bark, but it’s an intimidating one if someone is around who shouldn’t be. I feel a lot safer having him with me, that’s for sure.”

“I’d imagine so,” Emma agreed, nodding her head in easy agreement.

“Well, we’ll let you go for now,” Violet said, unlooping Norman’s leash from the bench and readying to lead the two of them off down the street. “Thank you for your time, and I’ll hope to hear from you, but I’m sure I’ll stop in again once you’re open, either way.” She gave an easy wave, which Emma returned, and then started away along the sidewalk.

Emma turned to reopen the shop’s door and get back to work inside when a strange movement caught her eye, seemingly in the alley between the law offices and the jeweler’s on the opposite side of the street. Squinting in concentration, she tried to focus on the dark blur she was certain had slipped through her peripheral vision mere moments ago, but without any luck. Whoever or whatever she had seen was gone, vanished into the shadow of the narrow space between the buildings, or - more likely - never there at all. Shaking her head, Emma re-entered her own building and returned to her unpacking, pricing, and display efforts, doing her best to put the strange sense of having been watched out of her mind, and to ignore the nervous energy crawling along her skin. There was nothing there, and she was being ridiculous.

Soon, she was swept up in her work again, and the pleasure at seeing the pictures all side by side and ready for viewing at last, the way the whole thing was taking shape, had shoved the anxiety from her gut, letting the warmth of pride and accomplishment take its place. She’d slipped into her own little world to such a degree that when David Nolan charged in a couple hours later, followed by Killian Jones, both of them projecting a sort of restless upset and overflow of adrenaline, she was startled enough to whip around with a surprised exclamation from where she was perched atop a ladder, hanging a large landscape she’d captured. She wobbled slightly at the sudden movement, and Killian was across the room in a blink, steadying the ladder with one hand, the other at the back of her calf - warm, strong fingers clamped around her leg impossible to ignore, and sending all breath whooshing from her lungs even as it restored her balance. The heat and pressure ran tingling all the way up her legs to the juncture of her thighs, feeling like a bubbling of molten lava at her core. Even when she had been deeply committed in a years-long relationship with Neal back in Boston, she’d never felt anything like the burning intensity that gripped her with the mere touch of Killian’s hand.

If the breath of shock that escaped him, his widened blue eyes meeting hers before they darted away, and how he withdrew several steps promptly when she moved to shakily descend the ladder, were any indication, he had felt it too. Emma could feel his gaze still flickering over her back as she turned to David with hands crossed over her chest, trying to gather enough air to speak normally, and asked, “What is going on? You two charged in here like the place was on fire and scared me half to death!”

That was a bit of an exaggeration, but she was trying to lighten the moment and deflect attention from her churning insides and the fact that her body’s reaction to Killian Jones was what truly frightened her most.

David bobbed his head in a sheepish nod of acknowledgement, his tense shoulders dropping only a bit, though he did have the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry about that, Emma. It wasn’t our intention at all. Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

Emma immediately caught his tone and the concerned, nervous energy radiating from both of them, even as they saw she was just fine and seemed to try to reel themselves back in. Tilting her head to study David’s face more carefully, she pressed warily, “Alright? Why wouldn’t I be?”

Killian stepped up closer to her side again, clearing his throat as he did, immediately upping Emma’s awareness further with his nearness, though he didn’t speak. David, meanwhile, shifted from one foot to the other restlessly, glancing away from her to meet his friend’s eyes before drawing in a deep breath and answering her question as calmly and succinctly as possible.

“I was notified an hour ago by one of my contacts in the city that Vic Franken - your former foster parent - has broken parole. He was facing five years for possession and reckless endangerment, but plea bargaining and so-called ‘good behavior’ have him up for parole sooner.” David’s tone and the practically audible air quotes in his voice made the huffs of disbelief and derision from both Emma and Killian seem all the more justified. “At any rate,” David continued, leveling his gaze on Emma seriously after a long-suffering sigh, “he’s in the wind, and it’s more than likely he would head this way. He might have been arrested elsewhere, but his last known address was here in Storybrooke, and he tends to return to what he knows. We’ve all borne witness to that pattern over the years.”

The sheriff paused there to both catch his breath and gather his thoughts. His well-muscled arms were crossed over his broad chest, almost looking as if he planned to plant himself right in front of her like some sort of stubborn protective barrier for the foreseeable future. The frown of consternation that marred his naturally open and amiable face completed the look all too well. Emma felt a surge of affection for Nolan at his obvious show of concern, and found herself wanting to ease his worry - even if the idea of her former abuser being on the loose and nearby had made a quivering fear run through her. She wasn’t trapped in a house with Franken anymore, didn’t have to deal with his presence any longer, and she was not about to let the idea of him reappearing rule her mind or emotions.

She gave a cool, measured nod, standing to her full height and making certain to look David right in the eye as well, not flinching for a second, no matter how much she wanted to. Waiting until she was sure there would be no tremor in her voice, Emma offered, “Thank you for letting me know so quickly, David. Truly. Being prepared is about the best defense I can have, as far as I’m concerned. Turning around to find him standing right there would be a hell of an awful shock to the system, but at least now I know to be on my guard.”

She wasn’t oblivious to Killian’s coming to stand just behind her, as if slightly flanking her against an attack, but she resolutely ignored it for the moment, determined to show she could face down the threat before her, regardless of the scars and horrific memories just the mention of Franken’s name brought flooding back. Facing David with fire in her eyes, she added reluctantly, “If he’s smart, he’ll run somewhere other than directly back here where he’s expected and bound to get caught. Still, we all know sensible, intelligent behavior is not the man’s leading characteristic, so I’ll be keeping a wary eye out. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to face him since I ran anyway.”

“What?!” David burst out incredulously.

Just as Killian swung around to face her with a hotly uttered, “Emma, what are you talking about?”

“He found me in Boston,” she shrugged, fighting to hang onto her calm air of nonchalance, even in the face of their volatile emotions. “Several years ago now. Startled me right in the street outside my apartment building - wanting money to stay out of my way and keep leaving me alone, essentially. It wasn’t a hard choice to pay it and have him gone. I was rattled that he was able to track me down, but he left, thankfully… and that was the end of it.”

Killian’s dark brows furrowed intently over his eyes that had grown stormy like a squall amidst the pretty ocean blue. Gently taking her arm to turn her to face him fully, his voice was quietly intense when he argued, “The end of it?! Are you serious, Emma? What are you thinking? He’s a dangerous man, particularly toward you, and you’re acting as though we’ve just told you something as minor as the weather for this evening.”

Emma gave him a cool look, not about to back down or fall apart in front of either of these men who were clearly concerned for her and expecting just that. She might feel as if her stomach was suddenly sloshing around like a sickening bowl of jelly, but she wouldn’t let Vic Franken take any more time from her or waste any of her concern. He’d made her early life a living hell - much more than Killian or David could imagine, whatever they thought they knew. It had taken years for her to stop biting back anything she might have noticed or seen for fear of being punished for her “unholy visions”. She’d looked over her shoulder, jumped at the slightest touch, been unwilling to accept the simplest compliment, continually unable to fathom that others might find her interesting, worthwhile, or important. It was still a work in progress, but she wasn’t moving backwards or scuttling to hide like some crawfish beneath its rock at the first hint of the man’s existence or mention of his name. She’d face it without flinching; he had no power over her now.

“I understand,” she finally gritted out as steadily as possible, eyeing Killian and David in turn, seeing that they took in her resolve. “I’ll keep my guard up, and I’ll call you the moment I see him - if I see him - but I’m not cowering or letting him ruin what I’ve worked toward. I have a store to open the day after tomorrow, and I’m not stopping for him or anyone else.”

David was already shaking his head, not liking her stubborn response, but being wise enough to recognize a battle he couldn’t win. “Well, see that you do. Keep your phone on you at all times. Try not to be alone any more than you have to. Call me anytime - day or night, whether I’m officially on duty or not, I mean that. We can’t ignore the facts. We may not have been able to do much to help when we were kids, but I’m not giving him a chance to lay a hand on you again, not on my watch.”

“Nor mine,” Killian echoed gravely, his voice a low rumble that shuddered through her pleasantly, no matter how she tried to ignore the effect. He was right there at her elbow, radiating anger, protectiveness, and something else delicious and unspoken which she didn’t dare put a name to. Even in the nightmare situation being threatened, a small, neglected corner of her thrilled at the sensation, savoring it for all it was worth.

“What? Nolan’s deputized you, and I haven’t heard about it?” she queried sarcastically, arching a sardonic brow at him in effort to hide just how touched she was by the care they both showed and the amount of comfort it lent her. Shaking her head, Emma regarded both men with knowing resignation, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. “Look, I appreciate the thought, but do you really think I don’t understand the danger here? Or that I plan to leave myself vulnerable again? I don’t. But I won’t stop living my life either. It’s finally mine, to live as I choose.”

“But Emma…” David began again, seeming to forget his earlier decision to abandon a futile struggle - at least until she sent a quelling look his way to freeze the words on his tongue.

Killian was undaunted though, and picked up where the Sheriff had left off. “At least don’t allow him to catch you all alone, Swan. You shouldn’t go anywhere by yourself until Franken is back in custody.”

She’d placed her hands on her hips then, facing off against him squarely, even as he stepped closer too, moving to cradle her elbow in his large, calloused hand, much as he would aim to soothe a skittish animal. That still didn’t keep her from countering frustratedly, “And just how long might that take? Who’s planning on uprooting his life to follow me around like a babysitter, you?” She shook her head wildly, seeing that he looked every bit as stubborn as she did. “You don’t have time for that - no one does. It’s not practical.”

“I’ll make time,” he shot right back, without so much as a blink or a moment’s pause. “Practical or not, it’s necessary, and you’re stuck with me.”

She huffed in dissatisfaction, but turned from him to plant her hands on the counter and force several deep breaths rather than continuing to fight - in front of David, no less - when they were both so riled up.

“Well, glad that’s settled,” David breathed out with a brisk energy, pointedly ignoring the obvious tension in the room and smacking his hands together loudly, as if to accentuate the issue being resolved. He tapped a hand twice on the sturdy counter in farewell. “Everyone’s looking for him; he won’t be loose for very long,” he predicted, giving Emma a bolstering smile. “Until then, you’ve got a little extra insurance, right? Just to be safe.”

Emma only offered a half-hearted grumble and roll of her eyes, but David unaffectedly allowed that to roll right off his back with typical good humor, slapping Killian’s shoulder on his way to the door.

Once they were alone, Killian turned to her with an exaggerated sort of leer and waggling brow, as if knowing she needed to lessen the anxiety surrounding them. “So, Swan, it would seem I am at your service. What would you have me do?” He leaned closer to her with the words, lending them a hint of temptation, especially when she could see his tongue swipe along his bottom lip seductively.

She had to tease him back; there was simply no other way her pounding heart and heated blood would allow her to respond. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she purred with a salacious wink, batting her lashes for added effect.

If possible, the heated expression on Killian’s face grew more scorching, little flames of awareness licking up and down her arms and all across her skin. Emma flushed involuntarily, knowing her response showed, and that realization only making her embarrassment and arousal climb all the higher. Her gaze fell to the counter in an attempt to escape his intense regard; eyes following her fingers as they fumbled over odds and ends lying about, scrambling to look busy.

Still, her head jerked back up at his response, unable to avoid eye contact when the warmth of his words washed over her, still lightly flirtatious, but no less sincere, as he answered, “Perhaps I would.”

There was no way she could question that he meant it honestly. Along with the ability to see things average eyes could not, Emma could also sense when someone spoke the truth, and knew most usually when the truth was withheld. She might have lost her faith in that skill for awhile; her emotions too involved where Neal was concerned to see he had not meant all he had promised, and her ability to interpret her visions compromised by heartbreak in the case that sent her city life and purpose crumbling down. But, for all of that, she could still read Killian with absolute certainty, like the printed font on the page of a book. In fact, he was the most unmistakably clear, open person she could remember facing since Rose herself. It was impossible to misread him, and more than that - though it set her heart to fluttering at triple speed - not only does she trust him, but she finds that she wants to.

Humming softly under her breath, she accepted his admission without further comment, and with a cryptic, quiet smile she turned to find something she could have him do to help if he was determined to stay.

Once started, Emma was pleasantly surprised to find that they settle into an easy rhythm working side by side. She carried on unpacking, but could direct Killian up on the ladder with hammer and nails to hang various canvasses and frames for display, rather than having to do it all herself. As the afternoon sun crossed the sky and began to lower toward the evening, they shared various stories from the years between since they had seen each other last. Emma spoke warmly of the professor who took her under her wing, a Professor Ingersoll, who showed her all she could about camera, angles, light and shadow, and taking a shot which could truly speak to the viewer once captured. The older woman had also given Emma a place to visit for a homecooked meal some evenings, shared her secret of topping cocoa with whipped cream and cinnamon to make it even more decadent, and had become almost a surrogate older sister in Emma’s eyes, beyond being a brilliant mentor.

Meanwhile, Killian spoke less often, but with a wistful fondness that drew Emma nearer, allowing her to see that though he had possessed the money, fine home, seemingly perfect family, and advantages she had not known, he still had pains and regrets, wishes and hopes he had not yet been able to make come true. As strange as it might once have seemed to her barely teenaged self, they had much more in common than what held them apart.

He spoke in easy, rolling vowels and smooth, deep rumblings of learning all that he knew at his father’s side, and of how much he had looked up to Brennan - practically idolized the man - until tragedy had brought him low and he had seen his hero crumble in his grief and vices. He even spoke falteringly of how he had blamed himself for not telling on Rose the evening before she had snuck out to her death. He had seen her bike - the one he then hated himself for teaching her to ride - hidden in the bushes at the end of the long drive, and had known she planned to slip away to some childish mischief after dinner. He hadn’t told, and it had eaten at him a long time, until he finally accepted that his inaction may or may not have changed anything, and that what happened to his sister was not his fault.

Emma had to press her hands between her knees to keep from reaching out to cradle his tormented face between her palms at that confession. Her heart ached for him; she knew all too well what it was to dwell on might have beens and take on portions of the blame not meant to be her own. She might have never planned to meet Rose in their spot that night. She might have made it there to face down the killer with her friend or fall beside her. But she was not the one who had taken Rose’s life, and whatever others thought, she had finally come to see that her actions had not made the horror come to pass.

At some point they had ceased working, settling together at tall stools behind the counter and talking as evening shadows stretched and darkened the burnished shades of a Carolina sunset. Still, neither was ready to bring an end to the gentle comfort between them; the chance to speak of things long bottled up inside and receive understanding rather than judgement in return. It was only when Emma’s stomach growled so loudly that they both stopped speaking, wide-eyed before dissolving into laughter, that they finally gathered up their things and left, locking up the shop and driving off in search of some dinner.

She still didn’t think it was truly necessary for Killian to shadow her everywhere she went like some unofficial bodyguard. Yet, she also couldn’t deny feeling safer in the knowledge that he was there beside her and watching her back. Once they had decided to take his truck and leave her VW there on Main Street for the night, they headed for one of the local drive-thrus. She would be right back at work tomorrow, after all, and the car would probably be safer there in the middle of town under streetlights and regular patrols of the local police than it would be at her rented cabin.

Clambering up into the passenger seat of his tall pickup truck, Emma still felt she ought to protest once more, just at the upset to Killian’s schedule, the inconvenience of leaving behind his routine and all the chores of his own he no doubt had to do, not to mention the awkwardness of spending so much time - and overnight, at that - alone together, no more than they really knew each other. As expected though, Killian would hear no further argument, resolved that making sure she was safe was the most important thing to him. Then he deftly shifted the conversation with a wink and easy grin, asking where she wanted to eat.

It wasn’t until they were traveling along the rutted back road well outside the Storybrooke limits, along the edge of the wooded marsh near the place she was renting, that the peaceful companionship of the past few hours was harshly shattered. They had been rolling along under the deep midnight-purple sky sprinkled with stars, Emma savoring the last few salty French fries in her packet from the local diner and Killian slurping the last dregs of his milkshake from his cup, when her world suddenly swirled away from her; disjointed scenes from somewhere else flashing and pulsing wildly behind her eyes and the sight she both dreaded and couldn’t ignore swept her up more violently than it had done in years.

Gasping in shock, Emma bent forward over her knees, screwing her eyes shut even as the images playing behind her eyes invaded her head, growing ever more loud and vivid. “Wait, stop!” she rasped desperately, one hand clenched in her lap as the other fumbled blindly for the door handle as if to escape. Her voice scratched out ragged and plaintive as she begged Killian, “Please, stop! Right here, please!”

Alarmed, Killian pulled the truck over to the shoulder and threw it in park. He moved to reached across and take the hand she had reflexively balled into a fist, but even as they had barely come to a stop, Emma was out the door, stumbling sightlessly into the overgrown ditch. Hurrying after her, Killian called Emma’s name futilely while rounding the back bumper and plunging after her, but it was as though he were somewhere else from her entirely, unseen or heard as her arms flailed wildly while she climbed out on the other side of the ditch and into the field beyond, weaving unsteadily toward the treeline.

“Emma, hold up!” he called, trying to make it sound like a command, though his concern for her and confusion at what was happening overrode his intentions, making his voice echo shakily in the still night air. He jogged to catch up with her, abandoning any further entreaties that she was clearly past hearing.

Just as he reached her, Emma fell to her knees, hands on the hard-packed earth barely stopping her from falling flat on her face. Heaving, she seemed to be either struggling to catch her breath, or trying to purge nausea at whatever she saw that was invisible to Killian. She shook her head violently, almost clawing at the earth as she rocked back and forth on her knees. Not knowing what else to do, Killian reached out to lay a hand on her shoulder, then when no protest came, to rub it up and down her back soothingly.

Some minutes passed, minutes that felt like excruciating hours to Killian as he waited, not certain but hoping she would come back to him. At long last, Emma seemed to still, her rocking motion calming until she nearly slumped against his side, drained. For several interminable seconds neither spoke, until Emma suck in a harsh, rattling breath and jerked upright, her eyes popping open as she finally came back to herself fully.

“Shh, shhh, Love… take it easy,” Killian crooned, trying to pull her back to his side and smooth her hair back from her face as she scrambled backwards and began anxiously trying to regain her bearings. “I know you’ve seen something awful… but you’re back now, aye? You’re going to be alright.”

But Emma’s eyes were wide as they focused on him, finally seeing him there before her. “No,” she mumbled, her voice struggling back to life. “No, it won’t be alright at all.” Grabbing his hand and holding on tightly, she stared at him as if pleading for him to believe her and beggin his forgiveness at the same time. “I saw her, Killian. Some poor young girl… hitchhiking on this same stretch of road. He pulled over, gave her a smile… She didn’t know anything was wrong…” Emma’s breath hitched, but she pressed on. “She fought, but…but she couldn’t get away. I was seeing it t-through his eyes…” She shuddered before her voice dropped even lower, “No feelings, no remorse, just drinking in her terror… like it was before. That monster killed her. I saw it.”

The green of her gaze pierced his chest, causing Killian to struggle to breathe as well when she finally managed to tell him, “He killed her just the way he killed Rose.” Emma trembled all over as she finally let Killian gather her in his arms, though he was shaking now as well. “Rose wasn’t the only one. She was just the beginning.”

Tagging a few who may enjoy: @cssns @jennjenn615 @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @whimsicallyenchantedrose @laschatzi @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @xsajx @sotangledupinit @winterbaby89 @bluewildcatfanatic @elizabeethan @donteattheappleshook @the-darkdragonfly @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @bdevereaux @caught-in-the-filter @anmylica @stahlop @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @motherkatereloyshipper @jonesfandomfanatic @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @wefoundloveunderthelight @belovedcreation @scientificapricot @kday426 @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @ineffablecolors @blowmiakisscolin

#self promo sunday #carolina moon #chapters so far recap #cs modern au ff #cssns23 mc ff #new chapters coming soon

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ca-suffit · 7 months ago

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You decided not to post anything about Jacob's defense of Lestat's racism, the problem is only when fans do that, so you end up admitting your manipulation and hypocrisy, very interesting 😂

this is bait shit but I'm posting it anyway so ppl can see how annoying u all are. ur trying to pressure me to respond the way that u want me to by claiming to know my motivations for things. u all are so gd weird. do u know how many asks I get a day rn? n half of it is crazy dumb shit like this.

go on, here's that attention u ordered. what's even ur point? I don't even remember what this was in response to but this focus in my inbox on sam and jacob as if sam is in the klan and jacob supports it is insane. all this shit is trying to do is undermine jacob as a black man and give the okay for ppl to pile on him in a racist ass fandom. u have the same bs argument as the ppl playing racist games about "why can't louis be lying as a black man??" everyone's aware and fine with the lying and self-deceit in louis. it's ppl using that as an excuse to go hard saying racist shit that's the problem. u know jacob has to give these interviews and speak to white audiences, right? white anne rice ppl who have been ready to kill him from the first casting announcement? how much more is he supposed to talk about this to promo the show? and why is it always on him? not that I expect sam to have a great depth of insight regarding lestat's racism but gd he's the one playing the bastard, ask the white guy some shit about race too.

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prep4tomoro · 4 days ago

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Non-Lethal Self-Defense Tools:

Even in "peaceful" societies, it doesn't hurt to have a defense method in place, and at-the-ready, while jogging, walking the dog, driving, shopping, at work, or watching TV at home. Whatever it is, it's important to know how to use it effectively BEFORE it is necessary and know that you are emotionally and physically ready to use it when a threat comes knocking. However, situational awareness should be our greatest defensive weapon. As never before, we have many non-lethal and lethal weapons choices. Before deciding if you even want to use a weapon in determine, ahead of time, your level of accepting the consequences of taking a human life or causing serious injury. This may help to reach the conclusion of what to use or even if you are going to use anything. Selecting non-lethal and/or lethal personal defense weapon(s) will be based on availability and level of proficiency, trust, hospitality, beliefs or paranoia or a combination of these or others. The obvious are firearms, knives, stun guns, and pepper spray but thinking outside-the-box, when none of these are readily available or desired, may be the difference between surviving and dying. Consider, also, that marauders will be on the lookout, and searching, for the obvious weapons. Non-Lethal Self-Defense Weapons: The way things are going, it may get to the point when any self-defense "tool" may become illegal (including non-lethals). Wasp/Hornet Spray shoots a stream about 10 feet. "Judge, I had wasps in my car and I just didn't remember to remove the can from my car after I sprayed the wasps. And when I was attacked by these ass-wipes, I was in fear for my life and grabbed the first thing I could reach to defend myself." BE PREPARED to use whatever means necessary to defend yourself before and after the attack. But here may be some current legal options, depending on your jurisdiction: [Link 1] [Link 2] [Link 3] Pepper Spray: [Bear Spray vs Pepper Spray] [Pepper Gel vs Spray] [Defense Spray with ID Dye] Commercial Projectile Weapons: Pantell/Byrna 5-Round Kinetic and Pepper Projectile Launcher (use Discount Promo Code 1776) [Link 2]

Treating Exposure to Pepper-Spray / Mace / Chemical Irritants:

Don't touch or rub contaminated skin or eyes.

Wash Eyes with mixture of two teaspoons of table salt per liter of water OR a 50/50 mix of bland liquid antacid & water.

Remove contaminated clothing. Wash separate from other clothing with STRONG detergent.

After pain begins to subside, decontaminate skin using liquid soap diluted with water.

Make Your Own: We all know that purchasing a weapon can cost a lot of hard-earned money. Fortunately, you can make your own effective self-defense weapons without breaking the bank. Although these weapons are homemade, they are reliable when emergency circumstances arise. We should never be sure that we are safe or complacent about our security so it’s better to be protected than sorry. [Make a Powerful, Easy & Cheap Stun Gun] [Homemade Pepper Spray] Turn Everyday Items into Improvised Weapons Improvised Self-Defense In The Wilderness [Make and Use Improvised Weapons] [Other Ideas 1] [Other Ideas 2] In addition to Non-Lethal Self-Defense Weapons above, learning how to use ordinary objects as weapons may provide some sense of security and protection during a self-defense encounter. When commercial weapons or ammo is scarce or you're forced to leave your supplies behind, improvised weapons may be your only choice for self-defense. Hardening a Wooden Walking Stick Into a Spear: Carrying a long stick, made from hard wood (like Oak or Maple), in the wilderness helps with walking rough terrain but sharpening the top end into a point also makes it a formidable defense weapon to keep potential dangers at a distance or catch food. Hardening the point with fire will help keep it sharp. Rotate the point area just above the flames of a small fire to dry out the wood. Once it starts to get a "toasted" look, you're done. For a point of reference, pretend trying to toast the perfect marshmallow over those flames. It should be golden brown, with little to no black char. Sharpened the point again after hardening. Once done, rub plant or animal oil on the spear point. Peel the bark from the shaft, or leave it in place for gripping. Re-harden if the point becomes dull with use. Distribute Weapons: Having a single place to store or secure weapons leaves you unprotected if you don't happen to be in that area of the house when a self-defense event happens. It's always good to secure weapons to prevent theft or use by young or inexperienced household members. But, to improve ready-access by "authorized" members of the household, weapons should be distributed throughout the residence. Consider these Concealed Gun Safes. Distance: Taking lessons for fist fighting, hand-to-hand combat, martial arts, kick boxing, even fencing, are good as backup options but, generally, defense at-a-distance is preferred to up-close-and-personal to reduce the possibility of injury to yourself (see the 21 Feet Rule above). Striking tools like a baseball bat and fireplace poker or pepper spray may already be available in the house and are fair distance weapons but the greater distance to stop an attack, the better. For keeping predators further away, a high-powered rifle with scope and sniper training may be considered. A dog with a "big dog bark" may deter a predator but a dog that has been trained to attack is a formidable defense weapon. [Author's Reference Link] Related Resources: Making and Using Improvised Weapons and Tools

[11-Cs Basic Emergency Kit] [14-Point Emergency Preps Checklist] [Immediate Steps to Take When Disaster Strikes] [Learn to be More Self-Sufficient] [The Ultimate Preparation] [P4T Main Menu]

This blog is partially funded by Affiliate Program Links and Private Donations. Thank you for your support.

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texasconcealedcarry · 2 years ago

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Why You Need Concealed Carry Insurance

I get asked all the time about Why you need Concealed Carry Insurance? So I decided to write a little about it. I have had insurance through 8 different companies through out the years, and by far the best experience I have had and still carry is US Lawshield. For a few bucks a month you get access to there great lawyers. Available 24/7 to answer questions you may have. Its a question you have to ask yourself. What happens if i get involved in a shooting? "US Lawshield" Who has my back if I get involved in a Shooting? "US Lawshield" When ready click the link below and get 30 days free, or go to the US Lawshield and enter promo code concealcarry to get a nice discount. Concealed Carry Insurance, also known as firearms liability insurance, is a type of insurance coverage designed to protect gun owners in the event of a lawsuit or legal fees resulting from a self-defense incident. Here are some of the key reasons why you may need concealed carry insurance. Protecting your assets: In the event of a self-defense incident, you may face lawsuits or legal fees. Concealed carry insurance can help cover the cost of these expenses and protect your personal assets, such as your home, car, or savings. This is because the legal costs may be significant in a way that would affect your personal assets. Covering legal fees: A self-defense incident can result in criminal charges and require legal representation. Concealed carry insurance can help cover the cost of a criminal defense attorney and other legal expenses associated with a court case. Peace of mind: Concealed carry insurance can provide peace of mind to gun owners who are concerned about the potential legal and financial consequences of a self-defense incident. Knowing that you have insurance coverage can help you feel more confident and secure in your decision to carry a concealed weapon, since you know that incase of an incident, the cost implications will be covered by the insurance. Legal assistance: Some concealed carry insurance policies also provide access to legal assistance, such as hotlines and legal advice, in the event of a self-defense incident. This can help ensure that you receive the support and guidance you need to navigate the legal process and defend yourself against any charges. Nationwide coverage: Concealed carry insurance is usually recognized across state lines, so you can have peace of mind knowing that you are covered no matter where you are in the United States. Affordable: Concealed carry insurance is typically affordable, with most policies costing less than $20 per month. This makes it a cost-effective way to protect yourself and your assets in the event of a self-defense incident. More comprehensive policies may cost slightly higher but the cost is still affordable when compared to the benefit level. Meets insurance requirements: Some states require concealed carry insurance as a condition of obtaining a concealed carry permit. In these states, failure to obtain and maintain concealed carry insurance could result in the revocation of your permit. In conclusion, concealed carry insurance is a crucial component of responsible gun ownership. It can provide peace of mind, protect your assets, and cover legal expenses in the event of a self-defense incident. Whether you carry a concealed weapon for personal protection or for sport, it is important to consider the potential legal and financial consequences of a self-defense incident and take the necessary steps to protect yourself. When you’re ready to get your Texas License to Carry (LTC) or your Oklahoma SDA, make sure you choose a premier training provider. Conceal Carry Academy is committed to offering the best firearms training possible through the NRA or other State programs. When they need information on firearms safety or they want to take a Texas LTC class or Oklahoma SDA, gun owners trust the expertise of the pros from Conceal Carry Academy. If you have questions about any aspect of gun ownership in Texas, contact us today! Read the full article

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blindjustixe · 6 years ago

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Independent

Semi-Selective

Multiverse

Multiship

OC-Friendly

Crossover-Friendly

21+ Mun

Read Rules, Profile and Verses / AU Verses before interacting!

#The Defense Is Ready! [Self Promo]

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rulersreachf4n · 3 years ago

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Another Hollow Mind Post

I loved this week’s episode of TOH but next week’s episode is gonna be even more cool because we’ll (hopefully) get some of our questions answered. I already did a prediction post of what will happen which you can read here, but this post isn’t my predictions but more like me analyzing the promo images and breaking down who, what, where, when,why, and how.

Let’s take a look at these first 2 images. First of all he has his artificial magic staff not his regular palismen staff second of all he’s being tackled to the ground by Luz but why, this is obviously going to be in the beginning of the episode but why is hunter going into Philip, Belos, The Emperor whatever you wanna call him what is he going into his mind in the first place. I think Hunter will start questioning The Emperor’s loyalty since the last time we saw him, it seemed like he was on the way to redemption. Was Luz attacking out of self-defense or was it she was forced to.

Based off of they way she's attacking Hunter and the position he's in in the first photo I think we can safely say that Luz was doing it in self defense. Take a good look at Hunter's position in the first photo, it looks as if he's preparing for an attack, Luz didn’t want to fight him but she has no other choice resulting in them getting pushed into the spell circle and into The Emperor’s mind.

Now before I go any further I think I should mention the Gravity Falls season 1 episode 19 Dreamscaperes Stan was asleep when Bill, Dipper, Mabel, and Soos enter his mind and in Understanding Willow, she was also asleep when Amity and Luz when in her head so here's my question, how will they get Belos asleep to go into his mind. I know that Gravity Falls magic isn't the same as the magic in TOH but if in both shows that have to do with memory/past involve the person being asleep then I think it's safe to say that you gotta be asleep in order to see someone's mind.

I think that Tara snapdragon will play a role in making Belos asleep. Either Tara or Darius it has to be one of those 2 people.

In this image Hunter looks sassy, and probably is trying to do that sibling thing where they share their knowledge of something the other sibling isn’t interested in to feel smart and for their sibling to feel dumb. He most likely is explaining all these memories to Luz and what they mean like a know it all, then stumbles upon a memory that even he can’t explain or know that it means. Hunter will find Belos true plans for the titan/day of unity and is shocked that his uncle lied to him about his true plans. Luz comforts him and tries to get him on the right path and at first he might not believe her side he’s been so brainwashed to the point where he doesn’t know what to believe.

Again this is just my interpretation of the images and answering all the questions I have about the images and trying to get explanations. I feel like from all these images we’re given so much yet so little information about the episode, as if the crew gave us just enough cookie crumbs to fill our tummies but not too much that it’ll make us sick. Honestly I am not ready for this episode but I’m so excited.

Then we get this image of this masked kid with a wooden sword.

This is most likely either, his inner Belos or like a memory of Belos come to life like his subconscious or something. I think baby Belos (which is what I’m gonna refer to him from now on in this post) on the left is protecting a memory, or is running away from something and preparing to attack with his wooden sword. Baby Belos to the right looks as if he came out of hiding in the corner and is looking at something that caught his attention.

Baby Belos and Hunter most likely will interact and Hunter will trust/follow him since he trusts baby Belos. We know that Hunter has been abused by Belos mentally, to the point to where he hasn’t talked to kids his own age ever before, and doesn’t know right from wrong. He blindly follows orders from Belos without question, and is always looked down upon since he’s younger than everyone. Baby Belos will till him that he wants to hear and further manipulate him into staying in the castle and under The Emperor’s thumb to be controlled like a puppet. Maybe Hunter or Luz found out something they shouldn’t have and baby Belos is shocked or trying to follow Hunter and Luz or there are 2 baby Belos one for Luz and one for Hunter to make them split up.

This image is covered by text but if you zoom in it looks like Hunter is shocked and Luz is yelling something. This based off of their facial expressions will come after Hunter and Luz are reunited in the mind after being tricked by baby Belos and separated. Now I didn’t notice this until just now as I’m writing this post but Luz has something in her hands. Now, this might be just a glair from the text but it looks like something rabbit like is in her hands and Hunter looks like he pushed her out of the way, look closely and you see one of his arms is over her. What is this rabbit like shape that Luz has in her hands.

Maybe it’s another communicator like what Amity had in Eclipse Lake, or something similar to that and she is yelling into it to try to get out of here and it’s not commutation via emojis like eclipse lake but by voice so Luz is yelling/begging to get out of this hell.

The next image we have is of Belos in his cursed form with glowing feathers or something similar to a feather like substance. I think Luz is the one who will find this and not Hunter, she’ll see his cursed form and will freak but won’t tell Hunter to protect him. If Hunter is the one to find this memory or form of Belos he might have a break down like he did in eclipse lake.

Luz seeing Hunter relive traumatic, unpleasant memories, choses not to tell Hunter ‘cause she sees how scared he is after all they have been through in this episode or Belos knew that Hunter and/or Luz was in his mind and purposefully planted this in his mind kinda like lucid dreaming where you can control your dreams. I think Belos purposefully led Luz away from Hunter and is seeing this lucid dream from Belos to care her into keeping her mouth shut.

Now get this image and Luz is covering most of the image but we can get little clues and of what is going on the to the sides of Luz we see these shadows of hooded figures but that look a lot like Darius and Eberwolf based off the hair and the shape of the body, and the clothes or these could just be some mysterious hooded figures to trick us I don’t know. I strongly think that these shadows are Darius and Eberwolf who will be helping Hunter and Luz, maybe by being a distraction while Belos is asleep and Hunter is in his mind.

Lastly is this image and I know it looks blurry and static but it looks like Hunter casting the spell circle on the ground again this could just be the static of the image but I think this comes at the beginning of hollow mind where Hunter is standing in the spell circle like in the first image but except Hunter is alone, Luz isn’t there in the image (other than blocking the rest of the image) but Luz isn’t there it’s only Hunter.

So here’s how the episode will go…

Hunter will ask Darius and Eberwolf to go into Belos mind something will tempt Hunter into wanting to cast the spell and wants to know the truth about the day of unity that Belos is hiding from him. Hunter using his artificial staff and not his palismen so Belos won’t find out about Flapjack tries to cast the spell but Luz infiltrating the Emeror’s coven runs into Hunter, and Hunter trying to keep up his image of loyalty attacks Luz but goes easy on her giving him just enough time to cast the spell but Luz tackles him to the ground causing them both to go into the mind of Emperor Belos.

Walking down the halls of the memories Hunter, acting like a know it all explains all the picture memories and their meaning, while wondering down the hall of memories they come across baby Belos.

Luz being the cutie that she is thinks that baby Belos is adorable and Hunter is not amused. Baby Belos takes something of Hunter or Luz causing a chase scene, but there are 2 baby Belos’ and Hunter and Luz get tricked and get separated from each other thanks to baby Belos.

Later Hunter and Luz get reunited in a memory they see of the collector, Hunter pushes Luz to the ground and saves her from something that was aimed at her. Luz yells for help but without Belos being conscious it’s no use.

They go exploring in the memory of the collector and Luz sees a cursed form of Belos and decides to keep this information to herself and decides not to tell Hunter, maybe it will be useful to her in the future.

While Luz and Hunter are trapped in Belos Darius and Eberwolf cause a distraction since people in the cover are getting suspicious and wondering where Hunter is, so Darius and Eberwolf decide to disguise themselves in mysterious shadow figures drawing them away from Belos.

Luz and Hunter get out of the emperor’s mind and swear not to tell anyone about what they saw in the mind but Belos know about Luz and Hunter’s adventures but decides to keep it to himself as it can be used against him later in the show.

#toh #the owl house #toh season 2 #toh season 2b #hunter toh #hunter the golden guard #hunter wittebane #toh hunter #speculation #the golden guard #luz noceda #emperor belos #hollow mind #the owl house predictions #toh predictions #prediction #analysis

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anjuschiffer · 4 years ago

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[Mutuals]

Some more self-indulgent writing! Mainly because of a post @zestyzealot reblogged a while back and inspired this piece.

(This is the post I’m referring to!)

Enjoy!

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P.Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan

Tag: @polyvirnl

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Context: There’s no miraculouses. None. Nada. But the Bats still exist. Marinette uses her time to expand her brand MDC

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AO3

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Marinette huffed as she placed the last crystal bead onto the hem of the black skirt in her hands.

Bringing it to eye level, a wide smile graced her lips, a smile breaking as Marinette giggled to herself as she watched her vision become reality.

Finally! After four long and exhausting days, it was done. When she started on Monday night, Marinette wondered if this project would get in the way of her weekly sleepover with Alya. Thank God it didn’t.

Placing the skirt on her bed, Marinette smiled as she took a picture of her latest piece for her new collection: 12 o’ clock.

That’s when the hatch on her floor opened up with a creak, Marinette watching as her father poked his head into her room. Why was he here?

“Marinette, there’s someone here looking for you.” He said, giving a side glance down below. “Please tell me he’s just a school friend and not another boy you asked to model for you.”

“Dad, I already told you, Luka is Juleka’s older brother, he- wait, he? It’s not Alya?” Marinette asked, wondering where her best friend was at.

Yes, Alya gave her a heads up that she was running late for their sleepover, but she wasn’t downstairs yet? And her father had said ‘he’ instead of a guy friend’s name, so… who exactly was waiting for her downstairs?

Because despite only saying the name once, her father tended to commit to memory the names of all of her male friends. “What does he look like?”

“Well, he’s a bit on the short side,” Tom started, “has green eyes, tanned, wearing a turtleneck with some of those suit pants-”

“Slacks.” Marinette helped.

“Those,” Tom corrected himself, “and he has a dog with him.” Tom ended, watching as Marinette mumbled to herself.

Marinette didn’t know anyone with a dog, nonetheless with that type of fashion, causing Marinette to start pacing around her room, racking up some idea as to who it was that was in the living room. “He called the dog Titus, if memory serves me correctly. Or if I heard correctly for that matter.”

That caused Mari to stop in her tracks.

A turtleneck with slacks, a Great Dane named Titus, tanned skin...emerald eyes.

“No. Way.” Marinette quickly motioned her father to go down the ladder, quickly following him into the living room, her eyes widening upon seeing her theory be true.

There, standing inside the Dupain-Cheng living room was Damian Wayne with his dog, Titus.

“Took you long enough.” Damian said, adjusting the duffel bag on his shoulder. Titus wagged his tail as he saw his boy open the bag and give him his toy.

Just then, the door swung open, Alya panting as she dropped to the floor as soon as she walked in.

“Girl, you wouldn’t believe who I just saw! There, as soon as I turned the corner of where I lived, I saw the Damian Wayne with his dog, and- why is he in your living room?”

“Seeing as you finally caught up,” Damian said, walking over to Alya, handing her a heavy plastic bag. “Take care of Titus while we’re out.”

“We?” “We?” “We?!” Alya, Tom and Marinette spoke at the same time, although Marinette’s came out as a squeak.

“Did you forget what you told me?” Damian waved his phone that was in his hand. Marinette watched as he showed her a tweet...her tweet in particular, Marinette now going into a state of panic. “You invited me to egg-” Marinette screamed, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she lowered his phone and dragged him out the apartment, leaving behind a confused Tom and a giddy Alya.

———

“You actually read that?” Marinette asked once more, covering her cheeks as they walked towards the park square.

“I did.” Damian hummed as he adjusted the egg cartoons under his arm, a dangerous twinkle in his emerald eyes.

Marinette let out a silent screech, confusing Damian. “Did you think I wouldn’t read it?” When he saw her nod, he sighed. “I read every comment left under any post I write. Sure, I don’t respond to any of them, but your comment… seemed… interesting.”

Marinette wanted to disappear into a black hole. Damian actually read that stupid comment she had left under his post.

It was a post from earlier that week - a picture Damian had uploaded from the recent animal shelter he was volunteering at (as well as funding).

Another post about an animal up for adoption, this time, a hamster named Louis.

Marinette was scrolling through the comments under the post after retweeting it, when a particular one caught her attention.

<3 ACNH is Life <3 @eliza_beth

Replying to @Real_BloodSon I have a pet chicken and just wanted to ask if the candle method is a good method to check for egg development. If so, then are they safe to eat? If not, what’s a better method?

Everyone knew Damian loved to offer help when it came to animals -as it was no secret- but something stupid inside of Marinette thought she should do the only logical thing in her mind.

She commented on it.

Deadlines Are Approaching @a_mari_not_bug

Replying to @eliza_beth and @Real_BloodSon If it turns out that it is a good method, can I have some eggs? I’ve been wanting to egg someone's house as of late. @Real_BloodSon care to join?

Marinette didn’t think he would actually read it, let alone actually come. Wait…

Damian lives in the US, not France, unlike her.

So how did he know where she lived, let alone reside?

“How did you know where I live?” Marinette asked, realizing they were finally at the park, right across from the targeted house, not even realizing that she had brought him over to the house in question.

Damian blinked, setting the cartons down onto the bench.

“Tsurugi told me.”

“You know Tsurugi. As in Kagami Tsurugi?” Marinette asked, wondering where he had met her friend.

Damian nodded.

“We met during the semifinals for the international fencing competition.”

Oh. So that’s how they knew each other.

Damian let a smirk grace his lips. “Obviously, I won.”

Marinette simply looked at him in awe, causing Damian’s ego to soar more. Of course, that didn’t overcome the other feeling he had inside his chest.

After all, there was no way he was going to tell her that he has been following her account for quite a while.

So using the amounts of aesthetic pictures, selfies, bakery promos and mini photo shoots, it didn’t take long for Damian to pinpoint where she lived.

That’s not following Damian. It’s called stalking.

Okay Drake, but in his defense:

1- it was his side account that he uses for his own personal interests.

Damian didn’t exactly like having thousands of people following him because he was a Wayne. He wanted to be followed for being Damian.

2- he had been following her for quite a while.

Two solid years to be exact.

After exchanging social media accounts with Kagami, Marinette was one of the few people Twitter recommended to follow.

Marinette peaked his curiosity when Kagami mentioned Marinette being the person behind her “lucky” fencing bag. (Although, she didn’t want to admit that she used it as a luck charm.) It was an all black duffel bag, enchanting golden embroidery that collected to a single dragon.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Kagami had provided. A girl in her grade from her school in France, who designed the most intricate designs Damian had seen. (Yes, he has seen all of her sketches and final products of the things she had designed…yes it did involve scrolling through her photos and accidentally liking all of them as he went…)

3- it was too late to press that “follow” button when he already kinda didn’t do it as soon as she followed his own account.

When he finally noticed that she did already follow him, he didn’t know what to do. Should he follow her back?

“Not yet.” Dick had told him. But just how long did he have to wait? He was stupid for listening to Dick’s advice and he definitely wasn’t going to follow her back now. Or should he?

“So,” Marinette started again, looking around the area, scanning to see that no one saw them. “Have you ever done this before?”

“As in egging a house?” Damian watched as Marinette nodded, wondering if this was her first time doing this. “No, but it shouldn’t be any different than throwing snowballs.” Damian compared, remembering last year’s winter.

Jon had managed to convince the Wayne’s and the Kent’s to do a snowball fight.

The Wayne’s obviously won.

“Guess you have a point.” Marinette replied, attempting to vision Damian’s analogy. She picked up an egg and looked at it and then at the window of the person who had been causing her turmoil these past few days. “Are you… are you sure you want to go with this?”

“Aren’t you?” Damian asked, awaiting Marinette’s signal. He had perfectly balanced a dozen eggs into the nook of his arm, one being juggled in his other hand.

He was ready and from the twinkle in his eyes, eager to throw.

Marinette found herself smiling, letting out a laugh as she grabbed a few eggs herself and balanced them in her hand.

“Between you and I, I've been dreaming of doing this for the longest.” Marinette said with the biggest grin Damian had seen her with that night. “Ready?”

“Always.” Damian replied, mirroring her grin as the two looked at the target, Marinette throwing the first attack.

Bonus:

Marinette hummed as she doodled in her sketchbook, her mind wandering to last night’s events.

She hadn’t known how much stress she had built up thanks to Lila and her constant need to be the attention of everything.

The messes Marinette had to clean up due to Lila causing disorder during class and after class, all because of Lila and her gazillion and one ‘medical’ problems.

Marinette didn’t realize how emerged she was towards throwing eggs -with great accuracy- towards Lila’s bedroom window until she threw her last egg.

She remembered how satisfying it was to have thrown all of those eggs at the window, that glee when Damian smiled at her.

How happy she was when Damian complimented her for her graceful and precise throws despite the low lightning of the park lights.

Marinette placed her pencil down as she finished adding some last minute touches to the coat she had finished designing when Alya slammed her hands in front of her. Marinette quickly looked up at her friend, tilting her head when she was met with twinkling eyes.

“Did you hear what happened to Lila last night?” Alya whispered, causing Marinette to quickly tense.

“N-no? What happened?” Marinette asked, closing her sketchbook.

“Her house got egged. Well, her bedroom window did.” Alya corrected herself, watching as Marinette let out a gasp.

“No way! Poor Lila.” Marinette looked over to Lila, watching as she was surrounded by their classmates to gather to listen to her woeful story. “Who would ever do such a thing?”

“Beats me.” Alya said, looking at Marinette, a faint smile on her lips. “You and Damian wouldn’t happen to have been involved-”

“Us?” Marinette instigated, causing Alya to lean forward. “You think Damian and I would do something that stupid and not think of the consequences that awaited us? No way.” Marinette denied, causing Alya to sigh.

“Should’ve known you wouldn’t be up to it. Only you would step down after overthinking about the consequences.” Alya said as she patted her head before taking a few steps from Marinette. “Not like anyone would know who it was since the security cameras of the area seemed to have gone off at that time, strangely enough. Maybe if I hear what Lila has to say about the event, I’ll get some hints as to who it was.”

With that, Alya left to go and listen to Lila, leaving Marinette by herself.

Finally alone, Marinette let out a sigh, feeling her back relax. She felt as a smile rose to her face.

Giddily, she took out her phone to send Damian a text when a Twitter notification caught her attention.

She quickly checked it, her smile growing even more. She went back to sending Damian a text.

You bugged the cameras last night?

Damian: A necessary precaution.

Marinette giggled at his response.

Also, I saw you started following me. Now we’re mutuals!

Damian liked your message.

Damian: It was only a matter of time, seeing as we egged your enemy’s home.

More like someone I dislike.

Damian: Same thing.

Damian: Query. Would you like to join Titus and I for a walk at the park?

Sure! Class ends at 3. Meet you then?

Damian: Titus and I would await you then.

Marinette grinned as she placed her phone away as the school bell rang, signaling the beginning of class.

She couldn’t wait to spend time with her newfound friend! Who knows what mischief awaited the two!

#maribat #bff daminette #daminette #anju writes

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 4 years ago

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His Dark Materials Season 2, Episode 3 - Rambling/Thoughts (SPOILERS)

You all know the drill by now, bullet points etc. Etc. I may miss some things out because I’m just rambling and going off what I can remember, please bear with me!

Lyra getting ready to go and see Mary but not telling Will omg honey no you should tell him things!

I started laughing at Pan protesting about the bag and then Lyra cutting him off by closing it XD

Will was reading THE LETTERS :’( John Parry loved Will and Elaine so much I’m-

Mary is trying to protect Lyra even though she’s only known her for a day, and I am all for it, I love that Lyra keeps picking up surrogate parents like this 😂

“What a wonderful moustache” - OMFG LYRA 😂 and the little smile afterwards - GOLDEN

Lyra was doing so well at lying up until she slipped up about Will :/

Oh god the police are after Lyra AND Will now, that’s not good D:

I shouldn’t have laughed so hard at the “police” guy chasing her and shouting at one of the people at the university “STOP HER”, only for the response to be “NO RUNNING!!”

Oh honey no, not in Boreal’s car!

Also Pan in a bird form somehow managing to keep up with the moving vehicle is a thing?? Okay??

As soon as Lyra got out of that car, I was like “HER BAG. ALETHIOMETER. HE TOOK IT” - AND I WAS RIGHT?!?

IOREK IOREK IOREK

The fact that the ice caps of Svalbard are melting because of the tear in the sky and the heat emitting from it, and now the bears are running out of food :(

I love how Iorek was walking away and then when Kaisa mentioned Lyra he immediately turned back around 😭 that bear loves and cares for her so much I can’t-

Will seeing that there’s someone in the tower... oh god it’s happening soon, IT is going to happen soon...

Lee looking bored and as soon as the drunk guy finished talking, just going “... Well that was QUITE a story. ANYWAY...” 😂

That fucking lemur dæmon, can we just not?!?

As soon as that guy started spouting about heretics and everything, I immediately was like “run Lee, go!!!”

I audibly screamed when Lee got shot at

In his defense, he was shooting in self defense but also he feels so guilty at killing a man :(

Hester watching as the lemur dæmon faded into Dust omg

I audibly screamed again when the Monkey grabbed/smacked Hester like I literally was so scared??

Lee admitting that he loves Lyra and that he will do ANYTHING to protect her 😭

“My life is only a tenth of hers” - IM CRYING

That torture scene though was so scary omg

Deadass though, Mrs Coulter is so scary, I know I keep saying it but Ruth Wilson is so gOOD

Lee talking about how his father used to beat him, and how because of it he can take a beating... my heart is so broken. I’m so upset.

But then it happened to Mrs Coulter too??? Oh dear lord my heart can’t take this series I’m-

Hester comforting Lee after him being tortured was so damn sweet

“It’s been a long time since you’ve talked about him” “I know” “you did good” JUST RIP MY HEART OUT IT WOULD HURT LESS

LEE AND HESTER TOUCHING HEADS ASDFGHJKL

I love the contrast of Hester comforting Lee vs the Monkey hesitantly just taking Mrs Coulter’s hand, almost like he’s afraid to. It’s like he doesn’t know how to comfort her or something??

Also the fact he took her hand 😭😭😭

Mary giving her niece and nephew musseli bars and being like “it has chocolate, it’s bad for you, I promise” 😂😂😂

The fact that Lyra tried to hide the fact she was crying when Will found her omg 😭 I love them

WILL AND LYRA WENT TO THE CINEMA OMG JUST LIKE IN THE BOOK?! I THOUGHT THEY’D LEAVE THAT PART OUT IM SO HAPPY

Lyra: *eats popcorn* // Lyra:... *eats more popcorn* // Lyra: This is disGUSTING *eats even more of it*

Will admitting that he was worried about Lyra 😭😭😭

THEY WERE WATCHING PADDINGTON THE MOVIE ARE YOU SERIOUS BBC

Pan peeking his little head out of the bag to watch the film was so cute omg

This scene was basically just a good-hearted murder boy and a feral wild girl on their first date and I’m 100% all for it

And also Pantalaimon watching Paddington bear? Absolutely the crossover this hellfire of a year needed :3

Mrs Coulter helped Lee escape??? I’m... so confused??? But also I kind of understand because she told him to keep Lyra safe so...

Like I really love the complexity that this show and Ruth Wilson are bringing to Mrs Coulter, I’m so for it and I really love it

MARY IS MAKING A BREAKTHROUGH I HAVE LITERAL CHILLS

The fact Boreal has security cameras and knew exactly when Will and Lyra were outside his door o_O

Boreal is just a NASTY motherfucker dear lord

Lyra FINALLY realizing that she’s met Boreal before at the party back in London though like omg finally

“I want you to get something for me” OH SHIT THE KNIFE THE KNIFE THE KNIFE

THE PROMO FOR NEXT WEEK OH MY GOD OH MY GOD WILL IS GOING TO GET THE KNIFE, HE’S GONNA FIGHT AND WIN IT, AND WE’RE GONNA MEET JOHN PARRY OFFICIALLY OMG OMG

#hdm #his dark materials #lyra silvertongue #lyra belacqua #will parry #mary malone #iorek byrnison #mrs coulter #marisa coulter #lee scoresby #hester #pantalaimon #lin manuel miranda #ruth wilson #dafne keen #amir wilson

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snowbellewells · 4 years ago

Text

Self Promo Sunday: “Kingdom Come”

This is another one of my early Captain Swan one shots, this one written during the hiatus between 3a and 3b. The idea entered my head when I first heard "Demons" by Imagine Dragons, which is where the title and the lyrics included come from. There was also some added inspiration from episode 3x06 "Ariel" and episode 3x07 "Dark Hollow". I don't think there is anything in here that goes against show canon; it's mostly imagined thoughts and missing scenes that go along with what has happened, and some guesses at what we may see when "Once" returns again in March.

As always, I have no claim to the show, the characters, or the song used. They belong to their creators and I'm merely celebrating their genius!

Also available on both AO3 and ff.net

“Kingdom Come”

by: @snowbellewells

He knew that he should have kept his distance. She was shining light in contrast to his dark shadow, and a villainous wretch was the last sort she needed to have dogging her steps. Yet from their first meeting – knife at his throat, fingers fisted in his hair, hard, dangerous eyes hiding tense, nervous fear – he hadn't been able to pull away. He had no choice but to follow her. Call it a compulsion, an addiction, but he was as drunk on her as he had ever been on his chosen rum, and he despaired from the moment she left him chained atop that bloody beanstalk to any time she had left his side since.

The words Cora had hissed at him in warning echoed back to him, "You chose her…and the consequences of that decision…" Whether it was good or bad for either of them didn't seem to matter to his black, barely-beating heart. It was true: he had chosen the Swan girl…

When the days are cold

and the cards all fold

and the saints we see

are all made of gold

When your dreams all fail

and the ones we hail

are the worst of all

and the blood's run stale

It had become even clearer to him after the Echo Caves. When he had bared his soul and the feelings he harbored for her to be met with only silence and Emma's panicked uncertainty, fearless pirate he might be, but Killian Jones knew he should take a step back. The incredible, unparalleled kiss they had shared in the Neverland jungle told him the Savior was as attracted as he, but she was not ready for him. Her sole focus was on her boy – as it should be – but beyond that, she was running scared from anyone else who might try to breach her emotional defenses.

He knew it had been too much, too soon, to unload the truth about feeling that he could love again upon meeting her, and if he had been free to proceed as himself – as Killian Jones wooing a lady properly – he would have never been so clumsily blunt, but instead he was a pirate captain desperate to prove his loyalty and worth, while stuck on Peter Pan's nightmare island. They had needed to get Neal back without further delay and return to seeking Henry, and so he'd had to make clear that he was correct in the way the infernal cave worked. It had not been easy to look into her beautiful, tormented eyes when he had offered his confession, hoping he hadn't driven a wedge which would push her even farther away. It had been even worse to see her run across the bridge formed for her of their painful admissions, right up to Baelfire without giving him a word of comfort, encouragement, or thanks. He felt his shoulders slump in defeat, hurting more than he had imagined, when the cage holding the Crocodile's son vanished at words from Emma which he could not hear, and she fell into the embrace of her first love.

Killian felt her slipping away – if she had ever been within his grasp at all. Bowing his head, he hid the pain in his eyes from Snow White and Prince Charming's curious, searching gazes. Burning fire within him seared away the tentative hope he had foolishly let kindle within. He was nothing but a pirate, as the Prince had reminded him not so long ago. Though he couldn't help wanting to hold her, it was probably for the best…

I wanna hide the truth

I wanna shelter you

But with the beast inside

there's nowhere we can hide

No matter what we breed,

we still are made of greed

This is my kingdom come,

This is my kingdom come

There was no longer any doubt. He was a fool – a sodding, pathetic fool. For him to let a glimmer of belief take root in his chest again was begging for misery, but Killian Jones had felt it growing all the same.

Venturing into the Dark Hollow had been a risky, desperate move at best, but after his face-off with Baelfire and discovering that Emma had not even deemed what had been brewing between them worth mention, self-preservation had not been so high atop his list. He had barely cared what happened to him in their suicide quest to capture Pan's shadow.

Of course, the fiend trying to rip his shadow from his body had jolted things into focus with frightening clarity; especially when he realized that Baelfire was facing the exact same fate, but it was his moniker of 'Hook!' that Emma cried out in horror. That she found the power to magically light their star map shadowcatcher just after her concern for him surfaced was not lost on Killian. No matter how much he cautioned himself not to dwell on it, he couldn't ignore the implications. Emma might not want to admit it, might not be free to show it, but when push came to shove, she cared more for him than she wished to admit.

He had not lied to her when he had promised no deviousness or trickery. If Emma Swan – the Enchanted Forest's lost princess – ever gave him the chance to truly win her heart, he would use no dishonorable means. He understood good form and had once dreamed of being a hero. He might be an orphan and a pirate, not some prince or man of noble blood, and his thirst for revenge had kept him lost in villainy for countless years, but he still had honor, could strive to show it valiantly once again. He knew deep down that she wanted him; what he did not know was if Swan would ever allow herself to acknowledge her desires. He could only vow that he would endeavor to deserve her if she came to him with such a golden opportunity.

Swan needed some joy and lightheartedness in her life. Though she looked fragile, she was hard as steel; she'd had to be for far too long. To him, her beauty was unrivalled, but it was clear that Emma did not see that in herself. He wanted to worship her as she deserved, unfit as he might be to do so. Killian Jones wanted to restore her lad to her, heal the wounds of her past, love her unconditionally, and never leave her side. He trembled to risk pulling her that close; his history proving over and over that anyone he dared to love had suffered a horrible fate. It was better his own heart be crushed than for her to suffer harm by nearness to him. Still, if he fought back the darkness he had sunk into, shouldn't he be allowed to step into the light?

When you feel my heat,

look into my eyes

It's where my demons hide

Don't get too close

It's dark inside

It's where my demons hide

She came to him at the helm of his ship once Henry was truly safe and resting peacefully with Regina watching over him. There had been a scare when Pan had tried to take Henry from them once again, but it appeared Rumplestiltskin's strength had indeed been greater than the ageless boy's, and their antagonist was now trapped safely in Pandora's Box. Sighing as she came to a stop just beyond arm's reach from him and leaned against the Jolly's hull, Emma didn't know if weariness or relief was winning within her at present. She was not sure that seeking out Hook when her emotions were such a mess was a good idea, but it was a need all the same. She was drawn to him like a magnet – impelled to speak to him, to thank him for helping them to get this far…to make sure that he was alright.

Emma knew he had been left hanging, knew he wanted more. What she didn't know was what she had to give. It had nothing to do with still doubting his motives or that he was a pirate; Hook had long since proven himself in her eyes. She simply wasn't sure her heart could let any man in the way he would want and deserve. She found it didn't matter though: she still ached to be near the Captain. He calmed her, despite the turmoil she had been in ever since this voyage started, and his constant support at her back, whatever the situation or whatever her decisions, had given her strength. She wanted to tell him so; if nothing else, he ought to know what it meant to have had him in her corner and that she would not soon forget it.

"Hook…" she began, then shook her head to cut herself off, knowing that wasn't right. Her corrected word came out breathy and more ragged than she had intended, "….Killian…"

He turned to face her when she spoke his name, though he had already known she was there. Just then, she could see everything he was feeling in those ocean blue eyes. Though their decadent depths often smirked, prodded, threatened, or demanded as the situation called for, at that moment they were raw, reflecting mirrors letting her see right into his exposed inner soul.

All the words she had intended to give him flew from her head, and Emma was left standing frozen, swallowing hard and wondering why she wanted to talk at all. With that in mind, she moved to stand before him, just within his reach, when one corner of his mouth tilted up in a tempting smirk as he beckoned her closer. Obviously pleased with himself, he took things a step farther, resting both hand and hook at either side of her waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles that she could feel the warmth of through the waistband of her jeans, as if he were stilling a skittish animal so it didn't flee. "Was there something you wished to discuss with me, Love?"

"I…" her mouth went dry staring into his eyes and she struggled to focus on anything other than the desire for a second kiss from him, but she finally pieced together coherent words. "I just wanted to thank you…for everything. We couldn't have even followed Henry without your ship and your help. David would be dead by now. And I, well, I just…"

"Come, Lass, it's just me. There's no need to be so formal. I offered you my ship and my services, and I meant it." As he said these words, he was slowly, deliberately, pinning her in his gaze so she understood just how much it did mean to him. He placed the cool, smooth curve of his hook under her chin, tilting her face up to meet his.

"But – it's just – it's so much more than that," she floundered, and if she weren't so grateful and attracted and muddled all at once she would have been irritated that he could sound so composed and romantic while she struggled to get a sentence out. Emotional tears almost welled over her eyelids, but she blinked them back and stepped closer yet, almost begging him to hold her, causing their noses to nearly brush. Looking up at him, she hoped that just maybe her eyes could convey her affection, gratitude, and want without the words that seemed lost to her. Biting her lower lip in nervous anticipation, Emma raised her eyes, blinking, to his cerulean gaze and prayed he would simply read her scrambled mind.

Chuckling low in his throat, Killian seemed to do just that, and wrapped his muscled arms around to reel her in. "All you had to do was ask, Love," he teased, lightly ghosting his lips over her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, forestalling the inevitable and making her heart thud erratically even as she grew impatient for his lips to reach hers. Just as she had grabbed him and driven their first kiss – fast, desperate, bruising – he was taking over this second one, creating a slow, languorous, building simmer that Emma wasn't sure she would survive.

Killian's hand came up to cradle her head, hook resting along her neck on the other side, the one bit of cool relief to the fire in which he had engulfed her. His calloused fingers stroked along her jaw as if hoping to coax her nearer still. This kiss carried their feelings in it; there was still heat and passion, but below it thrummed something more, something deeper: it required a decision. Emma's breath caught at the realization that this kiss was something which might last.

Killian was thinking, hoping, the same thing, hardly daring to believe, but unable to stop it either. Greedy thief and pirate that he was, he wanted more of Emma; it would never be enough. Fool he might be, but he did not aim to stop until he had stolen her very heart. Not so long ago, he had been rudderless, with nothing in this world to keep him but his vengeance. Now, he prayed that he could change his course. At last, he had something to fight for, someone to hold dear. Killian Jones – Captain Hook – had despaired of being anything else but hell bound…until she crossed his path. Perhaps he might still find redemption in Emma. Heaven had to know his every effort and act for good has been due to her. It's all for her.

Don't wanna let you down

but I am hell bound

Though this is all for you,

don't wanna hide the truth…

This is my kingdom come

The door slams in his face – her door – and Killian lets himself slump against the wall, dejected. It all happened so quickly and now Emma is gone. She is beyond his grasp, as he had always known she was. He has waited so long to see her lovely face again, traveled so far, and though he tried to prepare himself for the very reaction he received, it didn't hurt any less when she gave him the blank look which told him his Swan no longer knew him.

Upon their forced return to the Enchanted Forest, he had tried to steer clear of everyone. Angry, wounded, and bitter, he had wanted nothing more than to hide himself below deck on the Roger and drink until he couldn't think of how being ripped from her just when she had given him a chance had hurt. He had not wanted to be near anyone and had made horrible, snarling company when someone forced the issue, but that had not stopped Snow and Charming. Emma's parents were a painful reminder of her, but no matter how he strove to avoid them and steer clear, they would not leave him alone.

It was exasperating how they kept trying to draw him into rebuilding the castle and their kingdom, tried to cheer him up, provided work for he and his crew as supplies were needed from other ports, and generally would not allow him to wallow in his misery as he had desired. They kept repeating that they had faith this separation would not last forever. For some unfathomable reason, he seemed to have found his way into their affection, and they would not let him despair either.

When Regina had finally put together a memory restorative potion, he had been willing to concede that these royal types and their unending hope were not so completely off base. The former evil queen had been almost pleasant and much more willing to help ever since meeting Robin Hood – apparently the man she had been destined to meet long ago. Some of the dangerous emptiness and hurt left her eyes when she was around the archer, and especially near his young son. Killian knew that she hoped Emma would find a way back and bring Henry if she could be made to remember. Regina also knew the rules of the second curse well though; she was to give up the thing she loved most. She couldn't be the one to go after them, couldn't force her hand. She would have to trust those whom she had spent so long fighting against.

Killian had been stunned however when David and Snow both championed his undertaking the quest. Something knowing flickered between the Prince and Princess' eyes, but he didn't waste time trying to figure it out. He was too grateful, touched, and ridiculously anxious to get going, whatever the mode of travel, to ask questions.

Now, faced with the harsh truth, he almost forgets the potion tucked into a pocket of his vest. He had to try True Love's Kiss, had to see for himself if it were possible. He shouldn't have even entertained the dream, and yet he couldn't help himself. He truly thought she loved him…but maybe she still does and has simply forgotten. He has come too far to turn back now without seeing his mission through. Any realm he tries to make his life in now will be empty without her regardless. He will wait for his moment, and he will try again…

They say it's what you make

I say it's up to Fate

It's woven in my soul

I need to let you go

Your eyes they shine so bright

I wanna save that light

I can't escape this now,

Unless you show me how…

Killian stands outside the large, several story building where Emma and Henry now reside, oblivious to the crush of people rushing around him on all sides, looking up to the window he knows is theirs, comforted by the fact that, though she may not remember him right now, they are once again in the same place and time. He can get to her, and he will succeed in bringing her back to her family…and to him.

That she wants him to keep his distance right now means little. He is sorry that she is at last safe with her son and free of the heavy weight of her destiny and he seeks to interrupt that. However, he thinks he knows Emma well enough to believe she would not wish for an illusion over truth; even if it pained her, she would rather face reality. He knows that much of his Swan.

Villain that he has been, that the world has always seen, the selfless action would be to let her go, but he cannot allow himself to admit defeat. Emma has never truly been loved – treasured – as she ought to have been, as he had planned to do. He fervently wishes to be the one to show her what it is to be wholly adored. He wants her to know that she is his whole world, and he needs the chance to see if she can love him in return, keep him striving to live again. The demons that still haunt him, that say her kingdom and his black soul are already lost, try to whisper that he will fail. Their voices hiss that he will never bring her back, that her knowledge and memories are lost forever. Killian pushes those insidious echoes from his mind. Soon, he will meet her haunting, storm-tossed eyes again, and he will make her see.

This is my kingdom come…

Tagging a few others who may enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thislassishooked @resident-of-storybrooke @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @scientificapricot @tomeandflickcorner @lfh1226-linda @xsajx @stahlop @donteattheappleshook @hollyethecurious @winterbaby89 @darkcolinodonorgasm @elizabeethan @wefoundloveunderthelight @jonesfandomfanatic @spartanguard @tiganasummertree @optomisticgirl

#self promo sunday #cs ff #cs one shot #season 3a missing moments #ouat 3b spec fic #kingdom come

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